Of Phantoms, Pigeons and Promises
by katbybee
Summary: The fate of The Phantom. I am switching "Determination" over to this fic, as I have decided to continue the story. If you haven't seen "The Greatest Rescues of E!"-the very last 2-hour Series Finale, just note in it, John & Roy speak of Chet in the past tense. A/Ns explain further. As always, I don't own the guys! I wish!
1. Promises to Keep

Newly-promoted Captain John R. Gage had been reminiscing fondly with his partner, Captain Roy C. DeSoto over coffee for the last couple of hours. Okay, officially, ex-partners, as they would now both head up their own stations, but, no matter…in their hearts, they would _always_ be partners. They'd worked together for a long time, and were closer than brothers. No promotion was ever going to change that. They'd already decided to get together during the first shift off they could manage as they walked to their cars. It was a long walk, as they had had to park in the lower lot that day…

Johnny's POV

Figures! Promote us, then treat us like boots! I snorted in disgust, and Roy grinned. As usual, he knew _exactly_ what I was thinking. I know, I know. But I can't help it that they scheduled an Academy Instructor's meeting today, too! Ahhhh, man….wish I hadn't gone there. It still hurts so damn bad. I stopped and closed my eyes a minute. The Phantom had never broken a promise before. Of course, Roy stopped automatically, concerned.

Roy's POV

Crap! I forgot about that meeting. I should have known Junior would still be blaming himself. He always does when things go south. Me too, for that matter. But this was different. This was The Phantom. And his Pigeon was losing him. Everything about that call just went wrong from the start. The problem was nobody really knows to this day how the rescue turned so bad. It was an MVA, man trapped.

Chet was using the jaws to get the door open; and then suddenly—he wasn't. He was on his back, the jaws still bucking crazily next to him, and blood everywhere. Mike cut the power, and there was a weird silence as for a split second, nobody moved. And then he screamed. A guttural, primal scream of pain and terror. Johnny got to him first, as he was closer. Marco grabbed the jaws and, muttering prayers, finished with the door.

I had already set up our equipment, so I got on the horn to Rampart and reported the Code I and second vic still trapped. I also let them know it was Chet Kelly, but nobody was prepared for Johnny's report on the injury...Chet's left arm from just below the elbow was completely mangled…just—destroyed. The jaws had literally obliterated it. It would have been so much better if it had just severed it, but it didn't. Johnny was talking fast, as we both knew Kelly could bleed out real fast. Pressure Wraps, Ringers Lactate I.V. s and a helluva fast run to Rampart. That was about the only chance Kelly had. We dispatched a second ambulance to the scene, just as Marco freed the second vic.

Johnny rode in with Chet, and to this day, he will not tell me about that ride. The second vic was conscious and mad as hell about the fact "we" wrecked his door. Like he hadn't wrecked the rest of it! Ah, well. I managed to shut him up most of the ride in by doing some mostly unnecessary stuff on him that required him to keep quiet. It was either that, duct tape, or punch him in the mouth—which I seriously thought about at one point. Kelly got hurt for this clown?!

After being released from my patient by Dr. Morton, I hurried to check on Chet. I found the guys sitting in the lounge. Johnny was still in with Chet. No news yet. Good, or maybe not.

Johnny's POV

Since my partner has always been able to read me like a book, and I have gotten better at it with him, I know he's thinking about that damned accident too. The one that change 51 forever. The ride in with Kelly was a nightmare, the worst. I went through all our pressure bandages and two sheets from the ambulance by the time we made it. Worst thing was the stubborn asshole was _awake_ for most of the ride! They had given permission for morphine, but with the necessity for surgery, the amount couldn't begin to touch the pain. I couldn't help him much, and we both knew it.

He simply lay real quiet, just watching everything going on. When he spoke, it startled me. "Hey pal, you bummed 'cause the Phantom ain't gonna be around to bug ya no more?"

I scowled at him, trying to hide my fear. "You're too damned ornery to die, Kelly!"

"Yeah, probably," he said matter-of-factly. "But we both know I'd make a helluva lousy lineman with one arm. Department's already got one Captain Hook, and I don't want a lousy desk job. Besides, The Phantom doesn't want to have to break in a new Pigeon." He gasped in pain, and I saw more blood seeping through. We were getting close to Rampart but not close enough. I pulled off my blue shirt, then my t-shirt, and wrapped it around his arm. He grunted with the pain, and I saw him losing the battle to stay conscious. Somehow, that scared me more than anything.

Weakly, he grinned, noting my bare chest. "Gee, Gage, didn't know ya cared…" His eyes drifted closed.

I smiled back, but all the signs showed he was starting to fade.

Loudly, I said "Hey, Chet!"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Promise me somethin'."

"Wuzzat?"

"Nope, you gotta look at me, first."

He struggled, but finally, managed to crack his eyes open a bit.

"The Phantom has got to strike his Pigeon one last time. Don't care when or how. But it has to happen, okay? Promise me. Okay?"

"'kay, promise…Pigeon."

Roy's POV

Johnny was right; Chet _was_ too ornery, and too stubborn to die. He lost the arm, up to just above his elbow. Predictably, he refused a prosthetic arm, claiming he could learn to get along without it. And he did, quite well, actually. He also stayed with the Department, as a Trainer at the Academy…training linemen. The first thing he did was learn to run the obstacle course just to prove he could do it. He promptly beat his own original graduation time! What he can't show them, (which isn't much, actually) he has an assistant demonstrate. Captain Marco Lopez and Chief Mike Stoker drop around once in a while, too. Even though he's retired, Chief Stanley comes in about once a quarter. Johnny and I come in sometimes…me more than Johnny, because there _is_ somebody missing from our ranks. Apparently, The Phantom is MIA, and has been since the day Chet lost his arm. He always said he never wanted to break in a new Pigeon, and I guess he really meant it.

As we finally get close to our cars, Johnny clearly distracted by his thoughts, I blink in surprise, then smile, hoping my partner stays zoned out long enough—just a few more steps; key in the door, door open and—SPLOOOOSH! "GAAAAAAHHHH!"

And from atop Johnny's dilapidated old Rover, The Phantom is howling victoriously! The gigantic water balloon has completely soaked every part of Johnny's dress uniform, except for his hat, which he had removed just before he got to the car. He looks like a dressed-up drowned rat. Johnny glowered up at Chet for just a moment, then smiled in relief, as The Phantom grinned merrily, then suddenly turned solemn.

"I told ya, Pigeon. The Phantom _never_ breaks a promise."

~~~The End~~~

A/N: For this story to completely make sense, it would help to watch the final episode of "E!" The title is "Greatest Rescues of Emergency!" and can be found on the dvd "Final Rescues of E!" I'm sure it can be found on other media as well, but you need to realize I am a Premiere Pilot Fan of E!—I'm old! ROFL!

In it, John and Roy, who have just been promoted, discuss, via flashbacks, a number of their cases. They mention, pointedly, Chet Kelly and The Phantom, very much in the past tense, _with no further explanation at all._ They do not speak of any of the other station mates in this manner. This has led to speculation with many fans and fandoms as to the possible reasons. His death is the most obvious, and often presented. So I decided to take a different, and very plausible, approach. Please let me know what you think. I pulled an all-nighter to write and post this, because the Phantom would not let me sleep until I finished it!

Btw, the balloon The Phantom drops on his Pigeon was modeled after one of the old Jack-in-the-Box balloons they used to give out as prizes (told you I'm old!) back in the 60's; absolutely _humongous_ ; _absolutely_ never meant to be used as a water bomb, and _of course_ , they always were! I should know. Thanks—I think—to my older brother for the idea. He was my own private Phantom! Only instead of cupboards, he had a treehouse…yeah. Those suckers held about a gallon of water _plus_ air! EEEEK! :\


	2. Determination

Dixie McCall was stunned at the sight that greeted her as a bare-chested Johnny Gage and the ambulance attendants barreled through the ambulance bay of Rampart General. Chet Kelly, an oxygen mask covering his pale face was prone on the gurney. He was swathed in sheets and what looked like a t-shirt on his left side. He was also soaked in blood. A lot of blood.

She hadn't heard the desperate rescue call between Dr. Joe Early and Squad 51, as she had just come from assisting Dr. Kel Brackett on a difficult surgical case.

As he was rushed into Treatment 3, it occurred to the injured lineman himself that this could be his last trip ever into Rampart…He scowled as he fought desperately to hold onto some sort of hope as darkness threatened to overwhelm him once again. He pinned his gaze to one of his closest friends…his Pigeon. He smiled fuzzily at the anxious brown eyes above him.

"Hey, Gage…"

"Yeah, Chet?"

"Think m'arm's really shot, huh?"

Johnny took a deep breath and glanced at Dr. Early, who was working feverishly on the young fireman. Joe Early was compassionate, but never believed in giving false hope, especially to another professional. He nodded slightly to Johnny, confirming what they had all known, but dreaded saying aloud.

Johnny scrubbed a hand through his hair and nodded. "Yeah, babe. 'm sorry. Sorry as hell. It's pretty much already gone. They're just gonna be doin' clean up when they take you in for surgery."

Chet seemed to consider this impassively for a few minutes. "Well, shit."

Johnny nodded. That pretty much said it all. "Yeah."

Kelly looked at Dr. Early for the first time. "Doc, don't s'pose you know how much you gotta take yet, do ya?"

Sadness in his blue eyes, Dr. Early replied, "Not at this point. We'll do the very best we can. You know we will. It all depends on what we have to work with. We're giving you blood and plasma right now to stabilize you and get you ready for surgery. You're in excellent condition. You're strong. You should come through this just fine."

Chet snorted bitterly. " _Yeah…just fine._ "`

Dr. Early held up a hand in apology. "I'm sorry, Chet, you know I didn't mean—"

Chet waved him off. "No, I know what you meant, Doc. It's just…" The lineman turned his head away as the shock of all that had happened finally truly began to sink in. Quietly, Dr. Early checked the monitor readings, and requested a slight increase in the pain medication. He would be moved to surgery very soon, and then the real work would begin.

E!

Three Months Later

An embittered and angry Chet Kelly sat morosely on the edge of his hospital bed in the rehab center. He shook the letter in his right hand angrily. His former partner Marco Lopez was gazing at him with sympathy, but wisely remaining silent, letting his friend vent.

"I can't believe this! If I wanted a damned desk job with the department, I woulda took one in the first place! And now they're saying if I want a job in the department, I gotta agree to a prosthetic arm! Why?! What difference does it make? Besides, I don't wanna sit around all day! That's not why I joined the Department!" He paused to take a much needed breath, staring at his left arm; which now ended just above where his elbow had been. It was healing nicely, but still had a bit to go.

Marco looked at his friend and asked a simple question. "Okay, amigo, then what is it you do want to do?" Chet's simple reply cut his friend to the quick.

"I wanna be a lineman, dammit."

Marco closed his eyes for a moment, praying silently for strength, and then answered the broken man in front of him, hoping he wasn't making a mistake.

"Well, they won't let you do that, amigo, and I know you don't want a prosthetic, but why can't you teach other fireman to do what you did?"

Chet stared at Marco, his mouth slightly agape for a moment. "Me? A teacher? Are you loco, amigo?"

Marco decided now was a good time to unveil the idea he'd been hashing over with Mike and Cap for the last couple of shifts. Mike had even done a bunch of research on it, and had come up with some specific plans if Marco could get Chet to go along with the idea.

"No, Chet. I'm not crazy. And I'm not kidding, either. You know they're always short on experienced instructors at the Academy. You were one of the best linemen out there, from one of the top stations in LA County. At the Fireman's Olympics, you always turned in a good time on the Obstacle Course, even if you always did lose a little time suiting up," Marco kidded his friend gently.

Chet even smiled at this last remark. He consistently lost the monthly "Suit Up Drills" at the station, and was consequently always stuck with the dishes as a result. His face fell as he remembered those times. He missed being a lineman and the camaraderie of the station desperately. Seeing this, Marco pressed on with his idea.

"So, you should go for it, amigo! Become a trainer. I have read where all kinds of athletes missing limbs accomplish records without prosthetics. I understand why you don't want one, but don't let that stop you! Go show the department you can do the job just as well as somebody who has two arms! I mean, okay, so you can't be a lineman. So go train them! We need the best linemen out there…not just good ones, amigo—the best!" At this point, Marco poked his work-calloused finger into Chet's chest. "And that, mi amigo, you _can_ do!" His brown eyes were lit with passion.

And that passion lit a fire in his partner that Chet Kelly had though was all but dead. It reached deep inside him…and gave him a reason to fight…a reason to hope. A reason to believe he could be more than just another crippled fireman out on disability. It gave him a tool every bit as important as the hose he used to lay, as important as the halligan or the crowbar he used to wield. It was every bit as important as the Jaws of Life that had damned near killed him a few months ago.* The tool Chet Kelly now had, thanks to his partner and best friend was _determination_. And he would need it. In spades.

The End…of the Beginning!

A/N * Refer to "Of Phantoms, Pigeons and Promises." (Part 1) This is Part 2 of the Phantom and the Pigeon Series. Mention of Chet in this situation and near retirement is also made in "Give this Child a Home."

Also, NO, there was and is _no policy_ regarding prosthetic limbs, or lack thereof, within the department, then or now. _Please do not slam me for this plot device_. There is a reason for it, regarding prejudice with a _specific individual_ dealing with Chet's case. I'm getting better at heading off trouble, I hope! ;-) Hugs!


	3. Overcoming Obstacles

Chet sat across from the impassive HR representative. He was frustrated, but trying not to show it. "So, what exactly do I need to do to go back to work?"

The sour-faced woman looked askance at him. "You need two intact arms, for one thing."

Chet barely avoided rolling his eyes, thinking, _thank you Captain Obvious!_ He didn't want to get thrown out of the office, after all.

The woman looked at him more closely. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but the letter you received three months ago was very clear. I have a copy of it right in your file. Would you care to re-read it? You cannot serve in any field capacity at all. You must agree to a prosthetic limb in order to work anywhere else in the department.

"But why?"

"It's policy." The woman looked to Chet as if she would begin to spell out the word if he questioned her again.

"So, what are the requirements for lineman trainer at the Academy?"

She stared at him silently. For a moment, she pursed her lips and seemed to study him as if he were a bug under a microscope. Still saying nothing, she stood and opened a filing cabinet. She removed a sheet of paper and thrust it at him. "Quite impossible, I assure you. Now, I have several interviews scheduled this afternoon. I'm sure you will excuse me?" She picked up a file and proceeded to totally ignore him.

Seething, Chet stood and strode out of her office. He made his way back to the waiting room. Marco Lopez looked up at him as he came back into the lobby.

"So, how did it go?" They stepped out into the bright sunlight. It was a rare clear day in Los Angeles.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, about a zero."

"Sorry, amigo. What is that paper?"

Chet scowled. "The trainer requirements. I was lucky she even gave them to me."

"Not exactly a charmer, eh?"

"Not exactly."

Marco grinned. "Too bad Johnny wasn't doing the asking."

Chet grimaced. "Ain't it just."

Marco's light remark had obviously fallen flat. "Sorry, amigo."

Chet dismissed it as he hauled himself into the passenger seat of Marco's truck. He slammed the door with a bit more force than was necessary, but Marco chose to overlook the action. He understood. And it hurt to see his friend like this. Chet glued his eyes to the paper in his hand.

Marco asked, "So, what's next?"

Chet looked over at him. "Whaddya mean, 'What's next?' She basically told me I don't have a chance!"

Marco nodded slightly and shrugged. "Okay, then I guess that's it. You want a ride back to your apartment?"

Chet glowered at him. "No, I wanna be an instructor!"

Marco gazed at him intently. "Then don't let one woman stop you. Prove to them you can do it."

"These standards _are_ impossible."

Marco took the paper and read it over quickly. "Only if you let them be."

"How the hell am I supposed to run the obstacle course? There's the rope climb plus the burn tower* on it! And I seriously doubt they're gonna want a one-armed guy attempting it."

Marco's dark eyes flashed, and he smiled briefly. "So, don't tell them."

Chet smirked, but he nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, that could work…"

~E!

The obstacle course Chet and Marco decided to use was one very like the one at the academy, and, in fact, it was used mostly by firefighters, although it was open to the public. The biggest differences were that the Burn Tower was reproduced physically, but not actually set on fire, and the Debris Box was also not set on fire. The reason it was so similar was that it was owned and operated by two retired LACoFD linemen, who happened to be good friends with both Chet and Marco. There was a small shed on the edge of the course which contained the props for the course, such as the Rescue Drag mannequin, the fire extinguisher, the dead weight, and an old K-12, which were for use by firefighters. Marco would use a stop-watch to measure Chet's speed, but only after he had done some training first. They both knew that for him to officially pass the course, he would have to run it at the academy during regular academy hours, with one of the instructors keeping score and timing him. He would also have to run it in full turnouts and gear. The goal was to run the course in 10 minutes or less. They had not yet figured out exactly how to gain official academy sanction for this. They would cross that bridge when they came to it.

Chet and Marco stood at the starting line of the course, pondering how Chet could best run it. The biggest issues were the rope climb and the burn tower. Chet had been doing weight training exercises to build his upper body strength, so he wasn't really worried about that. It was more about the mechanics of the various challenges. The course was laid out in a large rectangular field, and consisted of 14 stations where runners had to perform various physical tasks. Timing began the moment the runner started the suit-up process, if applicable, and ended when he lifted his hands after finishing the last station. As with any obstacle course, runners could concentrate on particular tasks, as long they were not impeding another runner.

Marco had a suggestion. "Why don't you just walk through the course and we'll see what you can do, and what you need to work on. I'll time you later."

Chet nodded. He moved to the starting line. He wore sweats for these practice runs. Normally, he would begin by changing into his turnouts and gear, but that would have to wait until he could get permission to borrow some. Marco handed him an air tank rig. "They had a spare in the shed. At least you'll be close to the right size for some of the obstacles."

Chet nodded as he strapped the tank to his back. "Thanks, pal." Nervously, he took a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, let's do this." He took out the custom-made leather sheath and pulled it over his stump. Johnny, who was an expert leather-worker, had made it for him.

Marco nodded and stepped back. He would stay by Chet throughout the course, acting as his spotter and taking notes. Chet ran for the 2 -1/2" hose at the near end of the course. He pulled the heavy hose over his right shoulder, tucked it under his left arm and dragged it down the length of the course. He then picked up the hydrant wrench lying there. He headed to the hydrant and hooked up the hose. He turned and ran to the spot where the K-12 sat. He picked it up and ran to the 24' ladder lying next to a tall, free-standing barrier.

He set the K-12 down, and then picked up the heavy ladder, a task that was not easy with one arm. He managed to maneuver it into place, but he was awkward and slow. Marco noted the fact, and watched as Chet worked the extension on the fly ladder. He finished that task, then made three consecutive climbs up and down the ladder. He then collapsed the ladder, pulled it away from the wall and carried it to the fifty-pound dead-weight station. He laid the ladder down and picked up the weight. He carried the weight to the next station. He set the weight down and hooked the 1-3/4" hose to the hose tower, and hauled it to the top. Next, he ran for the fire extinguisher. While he did that, Marco moved to the debris box, and Chet used the extinguisher and a debris pole to put out a simulated burn.

Next, he ran for the rescue dummy and picked it up under the shoulders. Again, this was awkward, but he managed it fairly quickly. The one Marco had chosen weighed about 150 pounds. They had heavier ones, but he figured this would be a good start. Chet dragged the dummy 50' and then laid it back down. Next, he picked it up and put it into a fireman's carry and ran it back the other way. He laid it down, and then headed for the Burn Tower. At the academy, part of the tower would be set on fire, and he would climb the outside stairs of the four-story tower and crawl through the burning levels. Instead, he simply climbed the tower and crawled through the levels.

He then ran to the last station, which was the 40' rope climb. Here, he hesitated, realizing this was going to be the most difficult of all the tasks. He wasn't even sure he could do it. Marco stood beside him, encouraging him. Chet had been thinking about this task for quite a while, and trying to figure the best way to tackle it. He had decided to simply use his good arm to make the climb, and his left as an anchor. This is where the leather sheath would prove its worth.

Chet grabbed the rope and pulled himself up onto it. He anchored his legs in the rope, and twisted around to catch the rope under his sheathed arm. Gritting his teeth, he held on and pulled himself up farther. In this manner, he managed to make it up nearly halfway, before he realized he was completely spent. He was not going to make it to the top…this time. He carefully slid back down the rope and nearly collapsed to the ground. However, he stood, turned, and ran the 20' feet to the finish line. He raised his arm above his head. He had made it through!

Marco came up and slapped him lightly on the back. "Congratulations, amigo, you did it." Playfully, Chet toppled to the ground and lay there grinning up at his best friend. He was grinning, but his eyes were serious. "Thanks, man…"

Marco shrugged. "De nada."

~TBC~


End file.
